


Call me

by Enteroctopus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Two Dumb Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 19:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13747728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enteroctopus/pseuds/Enteroctopus
Summary: Small little one-shot (that may not end up being a one-shot because I'm dumb) about these two. McCree and Hanzo are both on different missions and crushing hard on each other, dumb men not knowing how to say "Hey I like you."





	Call me

_ Buenos Aires, Argentina _

_ Sunday 02:02am _

 

McCree hastily finished his drink. He tapped the table twice with his knuckles and a old looking barkeeper poured him more whiskey. He thanked the man by nodding his head and the other one smiled and continued with his business. The cowboy was starting to like this particular bar. It was close to the house he had been assigned to and not many people frequented it. He also much enjoyed the silent friendship he had developed with the barkeeper. They hadn’t once exchanged words. Even the first time he came, he sat down and the old man was already pouring him a glass of whiskey. No ice. McCree didn’t see reason to talk so he just… never did. He would come every other day, drink two glasses, leave the money and say goodbye with a tip of his hat. It was nice.

He circled the rim of the glass with a finger. It had been two weeks since they sent him here. Not a particularly exhausting mission or anything, local authorities needed help with a small organization of drug traffickers. They sent him since he knew the zone more or less and had a decent grasp of Spanish. Yesterday was the day they finally got them near the river. Unimaginative devils. His flight back to Gibraltar was scheduled for tomorrow, so this last night was his goodbye to the city. He wanted to go out with a bang. Not a literal one, but at least he wanted to give himself the pleasure of company on his last night here. Someone to drink with and exchange stories, maybe even whisper sweet promises that would never come true.

The gunslinger downed his drink in one quick swig. He ran a hand through his hair, momentarily taking off his hat to re-adjust it, turned around on the chair and propped an elbow on the bar. Time to put his charm to work. There weren’t many people at the run-down bar, but one particular man caught his attention. A local with dark eyes that met his and long black hair that reminded him way too much of someone. He smirked and tipped his hat. The man smirked back. McCree turned his head to the side, ready to finally talk to the barkeeper and order him two drinks. To his surprise, the barkeeper was already there, pouring two drinks of an expensive whiskey with a knowing smile. When he finished, he winked and chuckled. 

 

“ _ Goodbye, cowboy. _ ” the deep voice of the barkeeper and the lack of accent caught him by surprise.

 

“ _ Goodbye. _ ” McCree’s voice was almost a whisper, he was seriously considering the barkeeper was some kind of telepath or ghost. Ghost telepath. Argentinian ghost telepath.

 

He stood up and grabbed the two drinks, taking one step towards the man. McCree almost dropped the drinks. He turned around as fast as he could, put the drinks down and enough money to cover his bill and with a quick stride left the bar. As soon as he felt the door shut behind him, he nervously checked his pockets, looking for his personal communicator. 

 

“ _ Where is it, where is the damn thing. _ ”

 

The comm was vibrating somewhere. He finally grabbed it and with the biggest grin accepted the incoming call. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but it was impossible not to feel a warm knot in his stomach. The cowboy took a deep breath and talked, trying to hide his happiness and nerves.

 

“ _ McCree here, fancy seein’ your name in this _ .” He was trying his hardest not to seem desperate but his voice betrayed him, clearly anxious to speak to the man on the other side.

 

A terse and deep voice answered him with a chuckle. “ _ Hello, Jesse. _ ”

  
  


_ Hanamura, Japan. _

_ Sunday, 14:02pm _

 

Hanzo walked through the garden of his old home. The cherry blossoms were beautiful this time of the year, even though he knew they always looked like this. They were genetically engineered to perfection so they would always have flowers. Gentle rays of sun peeked in between the branches, caressing his face. He had almost forgotten the peace this garden brought to him. He sat down on a rock. Breathing in, breathing out. He closed his eyes and tried to meditate, but there were too many things on his head. 

Overwatch had been recalled for a six months already and missions were expected. He had braced himself for them, but not this kind. Diplomacy was not his thing. Overwatch needed an active watchpoint in Asia and Hanamura was the perfect spot. The castle was already a well-built fortress, the years of disuse not notable at first glance. The Shimada name was disgraced in the area but thanks to his exploits as a mercenary, some of which included taking down known assassins in Japan, and Genji’s hunt for the remaining Shimada elders helped them earn the government’s forgiveness. Hanzo’s mission was simple: stay in Hanamura as long as needed, make preparations for any repairs needed in the castle and deal with the local government. He was not a diplomat. Sure he knew how to bark out orders and negotiate, but not with formal authorities. At least not in a clean way, he knew how to threat and bribe more than fine. This was a real challenge: public relations.

Hanzo sighed, furrowing his brows.He had been alone for the past years, constantly on the run and going wherever the bounty was. Being a part of Overwatch was both a blessing and a curse. He was once again a member of an organization, one with a nice face, he once again had people that would cover his back if necessary. But this was also the problem. People. Partners. Companions. He had spent so much time in isolation and brooding in solitude that he couldn’t trust himself to do the same for others. Would he risk his life for another agent? Hanzo knew he would do it for Genji in a heartbeat but… well, there was someone else.

His eyes shot wide open as he felt his face blush. He was a thirty-eight year old man for fucks sake. He shouldn’t be getting these kind of sentiments about anyone. Especially not someone like him. He didn’t deserve to be in… to like another man romantically. More so, Jesse didn’t deserve to be pursued by someone as petty as him. 

 

“ _Jesse_.” Hanzo spoke the name out loud. It rolled so easily from his mouth, except in front of the owner of the name. “ _Je-sse._ ” It felt foreign, like a weird spell or forbidden word. There was certain pleasure in saying it. 

 

Hanzo could feel a small smile form on his lips, completely unable to stop or hide it. He looked up as he thought about the cowboy. He gazed at the cloudless blue sky and took pleasure in watching the gentle pink petals fall around him. He felt the sun kiss his skin, embracing the warm sensation. He could hear the call of a bird. He couldn’t recognize what kind of bird was it, he would have to ask Genji what kind of birds inhabited this area. For the first time since he began his stay in the castle he felt welcomed in those grounds. The archer was so lost in his senses that he tried to reach someone with his hand. He turned his head and fumbled with his hand. There was no one there.  He truly wished Jesse was there with him. He wanted to share these moments with the man. 

He stared at his hand and made a decision right and there. He was going to be selfish. It didn’t matter to him anymore if he was the worst man on Earth, a walking demon with no redemption. It didn’t matter to him if Jesse would reject him and never gift him with another word. Hanzo wanted, no, needed to get this off his chest. There were two outcomes and both of them were victories. If he was corresponded, it was a win. If he wasn’t, it was a win as well for he could be rid of those sentiments, hopefully. The archer grabbed the communicator from his pocket and looked for Agent McCree’s channel. 

He stared at the numbers and name for a few minutes, overthinking the situation. He could almost feel the voice of his brother yelling “Do it!” on the back of his mind. Hanzo took a deep breath and tried to steel himself. He wasn’t going to do it on the channel but he knew this was Jesse’s last day on Buenos Aires. That meant the cowboy got one week off missions to relax. A visit to Hanamura would do him well. It was a beautiful city and the castle was a monument of Japan’s best features. He was just asking a fellow agent for help. He was just inviting a friend. He was just stupidly enamored. 

He pressed the button. It took a few moments for the man to answer. 

 

“ _ McCree here, fancy seein’ your name in this _ .” The cowboy’s suave voice was the most pleasant song he had ever heard. 

  
Hanzo chuckled, nerves deciding to fuck him over and showing just how much happiness it brought to him to hear the voice of the cowboy. “ _ Hello, Jesse. _ ”


End file.
